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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29133018">what breaks (and what doesn't)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>and the universe said [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baker Niki | Nihachu, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forgive Me, Help, Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrids, Kidnapping, Light Angst, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, No Romance, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Techno-centric, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), adding more tags as stuff happens lol, are they ooc???? probably, do i care??? absolutely not, niki and ranboos friendship is so cute, no beta we die like endermen screaming into the void, please dont hurt me it ends well i swear, schlatt and techno are friends???, schlatt is a decent human being? wild, theres so many plants in the bakery, wild, ya nasties</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:54:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29133018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nope, Technoblade thought to himself as he shut the door in yet another person’s face. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? He was retired, for god's sake. But still they came, each one with some money and the same request: kill someone for me. My father, my enemy, my lover— who exactly they wanted dead varied. He supposed he shouldn’t blame them; he had been a mercenary once, a sword-for-hire. The Blade, they had called him. He had measured time with his scars and killed without mercy. For a while, that was fine.</p><p>Or the one where Techno tries to run from his past, but he finds a kid that's just a little bit too much like him and decides to take him in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jschlatt &amp; Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Niki | Nihachu &amp; Ranboo, Niki | Nihachu &amp; Technoblade, No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Ranboo &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>and the universe said [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2222409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. your blood flows ('cos your heart beats)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There are some descriptions of violence in this fic. I will make sure to put TWs in front of them :)<br/>Also this is about the characters not the people!!</p><p>This is mostly just projection lmao. Enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Technoblade thought to himself as he shut the door in yet another person’s face. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? He was retired, for god's sake. But still they came, each one with some money and the same request: kill someone for me. My father, my enemy, my lover— who exactly they wanted dead varied. He supposed he shouldn’t blame them; he had been a mercenary once, a sword-for-hire. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Blade</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they had called him. He had measured time with his scars and killed without mercy. For a while, that was fine. And yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voices in his head demanded blood, and he obliged. But the voices were never satiated. With every drop of blood he spilled, they demanded more. Every time his blade pierced through someone's heart they would cheer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mor̶̗̲͇̒̌e̷̲͂̐̈́,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they would say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>G̷̞̪̏̍i̶̩͚̐v̵̛̙̻̕ë̷͓̲̈́ us m̷̯̱̂ǒ̴͕̈re</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So he did. It wasn’t enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It was never enough.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were loud, so very loud. They didn’t let him think. They wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood</span>
  </em>
  <span>— there was no room for thoughts. He kept going, one person after another falling victim to his blade. Somewhere along the road he lost himself, drowned in a sea of voices screaming at him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill, kiLL KILL, GIVE US B̴͉̀̚L̸̺̙̣̉̎O̴͍͈̚O̵͔̪̮͋̿D̷̺͙̯͐</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken years for him to want to stop, and years for them to let him. They were quieter now. Softer, easier to ignore. But every time there was a knock on his door, they would get louder, asking for blood as the person on the other side would open their mouth to make a request. He always shut the door before they could finish their sentence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(The voices screamed in protest.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes Techno wondered where all these people came from. He had made it a point to build his cottage somewhere far away, deep in a forest that no one traveled. And yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If these people want someone dead so badly that they come all the way out here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, part of him said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>perhaps you should grant their request</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He pushed that part down. He was retired, for god’s sake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a village nearby that he visited every so often, wares in his hands and a hood pulled over his face. He had liked being recognized, once. He had reveled in the fear that flashed across people's faces when they saw who he was. Not anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just wanted to be left alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He wished he could be forgotten.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The people of the village never asked for a name— they simply nodded at him as they bought the little trinkets he crafted. They never pried, and he was never recognized. It was nice. There was a kid that visited him often, always looking at the intricate metal of his wares carefully, but never buying anything. He can’t have been more than 10. Sometimes he would reach a gloved hand out hesitantly before pulling it away all too quickly. He never said anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was an odd kid— one eye red and the other green, his skin evenly split between black and white. Techno figured he must be a hybrid of some sort. The townsfolk pointedly ignored him, never making eye contact or doing anything to suggest they knew he was there. Techno could tell that he tried very hard to look unfazed. Every time Techno was in town, the kid would be there. He kept his face blank, but Techno could see he was lonely. He could see it in the way his ears perked up when Techno would grunt a greeting to him, in the way his shoulders would drop at every person who skirted around him, avoiding his touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Techno told himself he didn’t care.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time the kid showed up with blood on his face, Techno brushed it off. He told himself he didn’t care. He had never even spoken to the kid, so why should he care about that? The next time he showed up with blood on his face, he was also sporting a black eye. Techno’s eyebrows tugged down in a slight frown. It was bright outside, that’s why. He didn’t care. By the third time, the voices demanded blood, but not the kid’s. There was something at the pit of his stomach, fiery and sharp. It took him a moment to recognize it as anger, not at the kid but at whoever was responsible for his injuries. It was irrational. He didn’t know why he felt that way— he didn’t know the kid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Techno told himself he didn’t care.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if he “accidentally” left behind some bandages and a small, handcrafted ring that day, that was no one’s business but his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then one day, the kid didn’t show up at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno told himself that he was probably fine— that he probably had better things to do than hang out with some strange man and just stare at pieces of metal all day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Techno told himself he didn’t care.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as the sun crept its way across the sky and there was still no sign of the kid, Techno began to worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno never worried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t have time for it; it muddled his thoughts, it made the voices louder. But the sun continued its slow descent and he hadn’t even seen a strand of the kid’s hair and he had been hurt before and for once the voices screamed at him to pr</span>
  <em>
    <span>otect, protECT, PROTECT</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So Techno put his things away earlier than usual, a hand gripping the dagger tucked into his belt and a frown settling on his face as he stood up. And he searched. For the rest of the day, he scoured the village, ears twitching at every sound. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he began to give up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he heard whispers of an underground fighting ring. He paid them no mind at first— why would someone so young have anything to do with that? But then he heard talk of a newer fighter: someone with strange eyes and stranger skin, black and white and red and green and not human, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Techno saw red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t really remember what happened next. He knew he had approached those people, demanded to know the location of this ring because </span>
  <em>
    <span>that was a child</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He remembered going to that place, putting on a calm exterior while his rage simmered just beneath the surface like a volcano threatening to erupt. He remembered seeing the kid being dragged out in a cage, like some sort of spectacle, like some sort of </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He remembered leaping into the ring. He remembered the voices screaming for blood, begging him to kill. He remembered something red on his hands, hot and sticky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered the terrified look on the kid’s face as he slammed one of the people who pulled his cage into the ground. He remembered picking the kid up, his hood falling to his shoulders as he attempted to soothe the kid’s trembling. He remembered the recognition that lit in the kid’s eyes. He remembered running back out the way he came, the kid in his arms and the crowd parting in front of him, half in fear and half in shock. He remembered whispering soft reassurances to the kid as they made their way through the forest, making sure he knew that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he was safe now, he didn’t have to fight anymore</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He remembered the kid gripping onto him like he thought that if he let go, he would die. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And maybe he did think that.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid buried his face into Techno’s neck, his soft whimpers snapping the man out of whatever trance he had been in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time Techno ever heard him make a sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they reached Techno’s cottage he tried to set the kid down. The kid only whined, curling further into Techno’s side, his grip becoming impossibly tighter. Techno sighed, though he found that there was no real annoyance behind it. He made his way upstairs, turning into his room, the kid still in his arms. Ever so gently, he sat down on the bed and let go of the kid. The kid did not do the same, opting to stay where he was, firmly glued to Techno’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat there for a few minutes, Techno simply waiting as the kid’s breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm and his grip finally loosened. He looked almost peaceful like that, curled into the blankets resting on Techno’s bed. Techno let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Slowly, he made his way over to the desk nestled in the corner of the room, pulling the chair so he could sit next to the bed. The kid curled in on himself. Techno draped a blanket over him, careful not to wake him. Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair, allowing his eyes to drift shut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(TW// Violence!)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The mid-afternoon sun beats down relentlessly on the open field, stands raised out of the ground on every side of him. Techno grips his axe tighter, trying to ignore the din of the crowd. Dust rises from the dry, cracked earth as he shifts his stance. He grits his teeth, preparing for the fight. His opponent comes into view and he pounces, the voices in his head screaming for blood. The man raises his shield just as Techno swings his axe down, the blade embedding into it. The wood splinters and cracks, buckling under the force of his attack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He basks in the look of fear in his opponent’s face as the shield is cleaved in two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man swings his own axe at Techno, movements erratic and panicked. Techno easily dodges every strike, slowly drawing closer. He swings his own axe, grinning as he feels the blade meet flesh, the prisoner screaming out in pain. He smells blood, metallic and sweet. The crowd cheers and the voices beg for more. The man stumbles back, clutching his arm in a futile attempt to stop the blood. The only thing it does is make his hands slippery and his grip on his axe weaker. Techno grins, tusks glinting in the sunlight, and swings again. Another scream pierces the air, followed by warm blood splattering up onto his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another swing. A scream, cut short by a wet gurgle and the sound of something hitting the ground. Techno looks down on his opponent. The man has a gash in his neck— almost deep enough to sever it completely. Blood pools around his body and his lifeless eyes stare up at the sky. Techno kneels beside him, murmuring a quiet apology before sliding the man’s eyes shut and standing up again. Blood stains his hands and clothes, the sticky substance searing into his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(The voices are happy for now.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The prisoner looks peaceful in death, no longer held down by the weight he carried with him in life. Techno wonders who this is more of a punishment for. He isn’t allowed that kind of peace; he has prisoners to execute, people to entertain, voices to appease.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remains quiet as the guards walk into the arena and take the body away. He continues to stare straight ahead as the axe is pried from his hands, as his handlers guide him away, back into the cage he calls home. Silently, he wishes for peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He knows it will never come.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno reaches under his pallet, pulling an old sword out and running his tired fingers over the blade. He has always preferred swords to axes; he likes the way a swordfight feels more like a dance, elegant and powerful. Where an axe depends on how hard you swing, a sword depends on how well you know your blade, how precise each movement is. He was rarely allowed to use a sword in his executions— they told him an axe was more efficient.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they allowed him to keep a sword in his cage— perhaps to appease him, as insurance so he wouldn’t lash out. He doesn’t really care about the reason why— he just allows himself to enjoy it, practicing as often as he can. His sword is an extension of himself. He feels so in tune with it, as though he was meant to hold it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He thinks this is the closest thing to freedom he will ever have.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t remember much of his life before the Arena. He remembers the feeling of grass beneath his feet, the scent of the flowers his mother tucked into his hair, the warmth of having a home. He doesn’t remember how he arrived at the Arena. He remembers the first time he was shoved out in front of the crowd, told to kill a man whose crimes he didn’t know. He doesn’t remember the first time he heard the voices, but he remembers their pleasure the first time he spilled someone else’s blood. He remembers how they congratulated him, told him he did well. He remembers breaking down that night, the voices whispering soft reassurances to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(They’re the only ones that ever comfort him.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(TW over)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A scream jolted Techno out of his sleep. He reached for his sword, ready to ward off any intruders, but his eyes landed on the kid. He was shaking in his sleep, mumbling in a language Techno couldn’t understand, and Techno was struck by just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span> the kid looked. He was dwarfed by the bed, curled into a ball at its center. He seemed to be having a nightmare, if his soft pleading was anything to go by. Techno knew better than to approach him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He remembered blood spilling from his protector's face, a gash from Techno’s own dagger.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he simply watched over the kid, waiting for him to wake on his own accord. After a few minutes the kid shot up, eyes wide as he gasped for breath. He frantically searched the room, and he scrambled back when they landed on Techno.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where am I? What happened?” And Techno could hear the distress in his voice, so thick it was almost tangible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re at my house. I… found you in that fighting ring. Got you out of there,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” The kid pulled his knees to his chest, fidgeting with his hands. “Who are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Technoblade. Feel free to call me Techno, though. I sell little trinkets in town,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen you without your hood…” The kid trailed off, his eyes flicking from Techno’s ears to his tusks. “…You’re like me,” He murmured, almost too quiet for Techno to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you mean?” Techno asked, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible. Trying to make the kid feel safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not human. You’re a h-” the kid made a face, as if it hurt him to say it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(It probably did.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A hybrid. Like me,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that why you hide your face?” The kid looked up at him, eyes full of silent resignation. Like he already knew what Techno was going to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Techno replied, and the kid’s eyes widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But isn’t being a hybrid a bad thing? Won’t you get punished for it?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Won’t they hurt you?” The kid asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno’s heart clenched painfully and maybe, just maybe, he found that he cared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And maybe he had for longer than he’d like to admit.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, they won’t. And they won’t hurt you anymore either,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” The kid sounded so broken and so disbelieving, and yet so hopeful at the same time. Techno nodded, firm and reassuring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your name, kid?” The kid hesitated a moment, seeming to weigh his options.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo,” He murmured.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you need a place to stay?” A man asks, holding a hand out towards Techno. Techno glances down at his hands. They’re covered in blood and scars and calluses, rough and violent. He looks back up at the man. His golden hair frames his face and he grins at Techno as though it’s the easiest thing in the world. His wings shift ever so slightly from behind him, shiny and clean and so, so beautiful. The sun surrounds him in a soft halo of light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Techno thinks he looks like an angel.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno hesitates for a moment, staring at the open hand in front of him. He blinks once, twice, three times, waiting for it to disappear, waiting to open his eyes and be back inside that small cage underneath the Arena. It doesn’t disappear. So he takes it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He wonders how anyone can feel this warm.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Phil,” The man says as he guides Techno through the streets. Techno simply nods— he can’t bring himself to speak. Phil’s home is different from the Arena in every way. It’s warm and welcoming and for once in his life Techno feels like he can relax, like he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Phil smiles at him and it feels so genuine and comforting. Techno feels tears prick at his eyes and he fights to hold them back. Techno doesn’t want to cry— crying is dangerous. Crying is a form of weakness, and he isn’t allowed to be weak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Crying gets him cuts and bruises and sharp, searing pain.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Phil pats him on the shoulder and leads him to a room with a bed and books and no chains or bars, and Techno feels himself crumble. A sob tears its way out of his throat and Phil is there, whispering reassurances but not touching him. There’s no pain, no punishment, just warmth and safety.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He settles in after a while, falling into a routine with Phil. It’s peaceful, so unlike what he had known before, and Techno finds that he likes it. He reads through every book in his room and Phil grins at him when he asks for more. He learns how to cook, how to braid his hair, how to garden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He wonders if this is what happiness is.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he could take care of someone else, but Ranboo looked frightened and lonely and something inside of him screamed at him to help, to protect, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So he set his shoulders and put on a small smile, extending a hand towards the kid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you need a place to stay?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. your ribs rise ('cos your lungs breathe)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno with a child what will he do??</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taking care of a child was, as Techno quickly found, deceivingly difficult. He wondered if this was what Phil had felt like when he had taken Techno in all those years ago. Ranboo was hesitant at first, always trying to make himself seem as small as possible, but as time went on he started to come out of his shell. For the first few weeks he barely made a sound, always watching Techno with large, wary eyes. He would take the food that Techno offered and scamper off to who-knows-where to eat. Techno never looked for him during those times.</p><p>(He remembered curling up in a hidden corner of Phil’s house, glad to finally be left alone.)</p><p>The first thing that came out of Ranboo’s mouth after those first few weeks was an apology, and Techno told himself that the ache in his chest meant nothing.</p><p>(He didn’t want to admit how attached he had become.)</p><p>So he moved past it, assuring Ranboo that he had nothing to be sorry for, that it wasn’t his fault. Techno finally talked about the fighting ring a few months after the kid had started living with him.</p><p>“How did you get there?” He asked, and the kid looked up at him with sad eyes, saying that he didn’t remember. That he couldn’t remember. He explained how he had always had trouble remembering things, and then promptly apologized for it. Techno reassured him that it was fine, placing a comforting hand on his hair and ruffling it gently. Ranboo initially flinched at the touch, but after a moment he leaned into it almost desperately. Techno tried to ignore the pain he felt on seeing just how touch-starved the kid was.</p><p>(It didn’t work.)</p><p>The next day he went into town and bought a small leatherbound book and a simple pen. He gave it to Ranboo, and the kid’s face lit up, grabbing it and holding it close to his chest, as though he thought that if he were to let go it would disappear. Techno smiled at him, soft and gentle, the mantra of <em> protect, protect, protect </em> growing louder and louder in his head. From that point on the kid would always be scribbling away in that little book. He told Techno he wrote down the things he wanted to remember.</p><p>Over time, Techno found himself smiling more, a warm feeling washing over him. The more comfortable Ranboo became, the more energetic he was. He would excitedly ramble about anything and everything and Techno would listen, ever patient, ever fond. The voices had settled down, content with Ranboo’s presence. They liked him, it seemed.</p><p>Sometimes the kid’s eyes would drift to the sword at Techno’s hip or one of the axes propped up against the wall. After about a year, he asked if Techno could teach him how to fight. Techno wanted to refuse, to say that he was too young, that it was too dangerous. But he could see the determination on Ranboo’s face, the fire behind his eyes, and he could tell that the kid had already made up his mind. It was safer if he learned from Techno than if he were to try and figure it out on his own.</p><p>The kid was a natural. He was tall for his age, all long limbs and awkward movements, nearly as tall as Techno at just 11 years old. But he took to fighting like a duck to water, drinking up every word Techno said. Techno would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed with how gracefully the kid was able to maneuver himself.</p><p>They settled into a routine— Techno would train with Ranboo after breakfast, then they would spend some time doing chores around the house. In the afternoon, Techno would go into town and Ranboo would have some time to himself. They would eat dinner together and talk about their days before falling into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the faint crackling of the fireplace.</p><p>One day, Techno asked Ranboo if he wanted to come with him to the village. Ranboo hesitated a moment before nodding his head, asking if he could carry some of Techno’s trinkets. Techno handed him a few and ruffled his hair.</p><p>“You can do whatever you want, kid,” He said. And Ranboo beamed, bright and warm and so, so happy. Techno felt a fond smile creep its way onto his face.</p><p>(He found he didn’t mind.)</p><p>Ranboo trailed behind him as they made their way through the forest, Techno pulling his hood up as they drew closer to the village. When they reached the area where Techno usually set up his wares, Ranboo sat down in his usual spot, a happy warble escaping his lips. Techno let out a small chuckle as he got to work, Ranboo gently placing down the items he had been carrying. The village was quiet that day, only a few people moving around, chattering amongst themselves.</p><p>Techno tried to ignore the way their eyes lingered on Ranboo, something almost apprehensive in their gazes. </p><p>(It didn’t work.)</p><p>So he leveled a glare at them as they passed by, frustrated with how well his hood obscured his face. He wished they could see the expression on his face. Maybe that would’ve stopped them. Unfortunately for him, they couldn’t see it, so they continued as they were, Ranboo pretending he didn’t notice.</p><p>(Techno could tell he did.)</p><p>At some point, Techno asked Ranboo to watch his things, figuring he may as well buy some things while they were in town. He found he trusted the kid.</p><p>(And wasn’t that a new feeling?)</p><p>Techno didn’t trust people— not normally. It was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Trust meant the possibility of betrayal, of pain, and in his profession that wasn’t an option. He was used to being used as a weapon, used only to kill, and then tossed aside. But the kid needed someone to trust him, and he was so <em> good </em>, so innocent, and Techno couldn’t help but feel comfortable with him. Happy.</p><p>(It was a feeling he wasn’t used to.)</p><p>He walked through the little marketplace, quick and purposeful. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. It was loud and crowded, and Techno didn’t do too well with people. He also didn’t like the idea of leaving Ranboo alone, not with the looks that people had been giving him. So he went as fast as he could, not uttering a single word as he went through the motions. As he made his way back to where he had left Ranboo, he heard a commotion. He picked up the pace, worry pooling in his gut.</p><p>When he finally broke through the crowd of the marketplace, he was confronted with an unpleasant sight. Ranboo was on the ground near Techno’s wares, curled in on himself and shaking. Standing over him was a man, hands curled into fists and eyes full of anger. His greasy black hair was a disheveled mess, and Techno could make out the redness on his nose and cheeks as he screamed at the kid.</p><p>Scowling, Techno pushed forwards and inserted himself between the two with a sense of urgency, focused only on protecting his kid.</p><p>(He didn’t have time to wonder when he started thinking of the kid as <em> his </em>.)</p><p>“That’s enough,” He said, voice low and dangerous. The voices screamed at him to <em> protect, protect, protect, kill, proTECT, KILL, KILL, KILL </em>. The man yelled something at him— not that Techno was listening— and swung a fist. Techno dodged it easily, moving to the side. His hood fell to his shoulders and his long ears twitched at the sudden breeze. He could see the man in front of him take a step back, taking in his long pink hair, tusks, and crimson eyes, recognition dawning on his features.</p><p>“You’re one of <em> them </em> ,” He spat out. “That’s why you’re protecting it,” Techno simply narrowed his eyes, instinctively reaching for the sword at his hip. The blade gleamed in his hand, sharp and dangerous under the midday sun. The man took another step back, something akin to fear in his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” He said, eyeing the blade that was pointing to his neck. Techno bared his teeth in an almost-grin. But it was too inhuman, too feral, too <em> hungry </em>.</p><p>“Why don't we make a bet?” He asked, shifting his blade so the point pierced the man’s skin, a few drops of blood trickling down past his collarbones. The voices cheered at that, demanding more. Techno was tempted to give in to them.</p><p>(It had been too long.)</p><p>But he heard a small whine from behind him, snapping him back to reality. Slowly, he sheathed his sword, the man in front of him visibly relaxing. He glanced to Ranboo, who was still on the ground, eyes wide as he trembled, his gaze never lingering on a single person for too long. He was scared— that man had <em> scared </em>him.</p><p>So Techno turned back around, hearing a satisfying crack as his hand connected with the man’s face. The man fell to the ground, clutching his face as blood streamed from his nose. Techno felt a sort of vindictive glee upon realizing it was probably broken. In the chaos that ensued, Techno quickly grabbed Ranboo and pulled him to his feet, ignoring his wares in favor of getting his kid anywhere but there. He was still shaking, but he relaxed significantly as soon as Techno wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face into Techno’s neck and Techno was hit by a sudden sense of déjà vu.</p><p>So he held Ranboo tighter, closer, and made his way home. By the time they got there, the kid had calmed down significantly. Techno set him down, and the kid immediately grabbed his hand, frowning at the blood.</p><p>“Your knuckles…” </p><p>“It’s fine, kid. Nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,'' Ranboo frowned again, clutching Techno’s hand in his own, and Techno found himself being dragged inside. Ranboo pushed Techno into a chair in the kitchen and disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a small box in his hands. He placed the box down on the counter, extracting some bandages, a glass bottle full of water, and some cloth.</p><p>“I can do that,” Techno said upon realizing what the kid was up to.</p><p>“Let me help you. Please,” Ranboo looked at him, his mismatched eyes full of worry, and Techno couldn’t find it in himself to argue. So he nodded, and Ranboo dampened the cloth and began to clean the cuts.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” He murmured as he gently wiped the blood off of Techno’s hands. </p><p>“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for,”</p><p>“But I-”</p><p>“Kid. That man made the decision to attack a <em> child </em> . Me punchin’ him was entirely his own fault. He had it comin’,” Thankfully Ranboo didn’t argue with that, though he looked like he wanted to. “Ranboo,” Techno continued. The kid looked up at him, pausing what he was doing. “When I made the decision to offer you a place to stay, I promised myself I would help you as much as I can. That includes protectin’ you. You shouldn’t be expected to be completely independent. You’re a <em> kid </em>, for god’s sake,”</p><p>“Oh. Right,” Ranboo said, going back to what he had been doing. “Thanks,” They sat in silence for a few minutes, Ranboo carefully cleaning and bandaging Techno’s wounds.</p><p>“We’ll probably have to find a new place to live,” Techno hummed after a while. Ranboo continued to wrap bandages around his knuckles, a small sigh escaping his lips. </p><p>“Why do you make it sound like this isn’t the first time this has happened?”</p><p>“Probably because it isn’t,” Techno grinned, and the kid laughed at that, small, quiet huffs, but still mirthful all the same. Techno placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair affectionately. Ranboo smiled back up at him, warm and happy.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Techno hears himself growl, a habit he can’t seem to drop no matter how hard he tries. He clutches a small pouch to his chest, the coins inside clinking softly.</p><p>Phil had asked him to pick some things up from the marketplace, explaining that he had some things he wanted to take care of at the house. Techno had agreed easily, happy to get outside. But, as Techno has learned time and time again, the world isn’t kind to people like him. A couple of men had seen him, a piglin hybrid, carrying a pouch of gold and had presumed he had stolen it, backing him into an alley to confront him.</p><p>And so he finds himself in an alley, two large men towering over him and laughing as his back collides with a wall.</p><p>“Where’d you get that gold, little guy?” One of them asks. He’s taller than the other by a few inches, messy brown hair framing an unkempt face. Techno levels a glare at both of them, his gaze unwavering as he meets their eyes. The other man takes a step towards him, holding out a callused, sun-cracked hand out.</p><p>“If you hand that over,” he says, his voice gruff. “We’ll let this go,” Techno shakes his head, continuing to glare up at the men. He clings to the gold like a lifeline, holding it impossibly closer. He can’t give it to them, can’t let it go because <em> Phil had asked him to use it. Someone had </em> trusted <em> him for once in his life and he can’t let them down </em>.</p><p>“Come on, now,” Scruffy insists, his tone slipping into something more aggressive. Sunburn nods, pulling a knife out from his belt.</p><p>“We don’t want to have to do this the hard way,” he says. Techno narrows his eyes, one of his hands curling into a fist and another growl starting in his throat. The voices scream at him telling him that <em> he’s in danger, he has to escape, hurt them, kill kiLL KILL </em> . Sunburn lunges, knife in hand. Techno dodges easily. The man’s movements are sloppy and unpracticed, and Techno fights the urge to laugh; it will only serve to aggravate him further. So he tucks the gold pouch into a pocket, grabbing Sunburn's wrist and twisting it. The man cries out in pain and his knife drops to the ground with a metallic <em> clang </em>.</p><p>In a single fluid motion, Techno snatches the knife up and slices at Sunburn, crimson blooming from his chest. The voices cheer, hungry for more. Sunburn falters and Techno swings again, a clean slash across his neck. He falls to the ground with a muted <em> thud </em> and Techno turns on Scruffy, a feral grin on his face. It only widens when he sees the fear that flashes through Scruffy’s eyes. The man tries to run, but Techno is too quick, plunging the knife between his ribs before he can take more than two steps.</p><p>It’s only after he pulls the knife back out, warm blood covering his hands and clothes, that he realizes what he’s done. <em> Again, he killed someone again. Phil had given him another chance at life and he ruined it </em> . A clamoring sound pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks up to see a few of the city guards entering the alleyway. He looks around frantically, searching for a way to escape. There is none. The guards are saying something to him, but his ears are ringing and the voices are screaming for <em> more, more, more </em> , and he can’t hear, he can’t <em> breathe </em>.</p><p>Techno glances down at the men at his feet, then back up at the guards, who are approaching him slowly, hesitantly, their hands held up in a placating gesture. Their voices have an artificial, schooled softness to them. He remembers sickly-sweet voices coaxing him out of a cage, telling him that <em> he has a job to do </em> and <em> he knows what will happen if he refuses </em>. And he bolts. The guards notice what he’s doing too late, and they’re too slow to react as he darts through their legs.</p><p>He stumbles his way through the streets, weaving through alleys in the hopes of throwing the guards off of his trail. He throws the door to Phil’s house open, practically falling onto the ground as soon as he crosses the threshold. Phil rushes up to him, saying something in a concerned voice. Probably something to do with the blood that covers Techno’s skin and clothes. Techno simply focuses on trying to breathe, sucking in long, painful gulps of air.</p><p>“I- I couldn’t buy anything,” he finally manages to choke out. Phil opens his mouth to respond, perhaps to ask what happened, but a loud knock rings through the small house. Techno’s eyes widen and he scrambles to hide behind one of the chairs Phil has in the living room. He sees Phil frown slightly before schooling his face into a neutral expression and opening the door. A few guards stand there, and Techno shrinks further into himself, praying to every god he can think of that they don’t see him.</p><p>“How can I help you?” Phil asks, voice even, not giving a single thing away.</p><p>“We’re looking for a hybrid, about yea high, probably killed two men. It gave us the slip when we were trying to catch it, but we were able to see that it ran in this general direction,”</p><p>“I haven’t seen any hybrids here recently, other than myself,”</p><p>“I see,” the guard responds, clearly skeptical, though he can’t do anything about it. “Well, if you see anything, please let us know immediately,”</p><p>“Of course!” Phil grins. “Anything to help,”</p><p>Techno allows himself to relax when he hears the door shut, Phil sighing softly.</p><p>“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, reaching a hand towards Techno. An offer, not a demand, warm and inviting and so impossibly <em> caring </em>. Techno takes it, allowing himself to be guided into the bathroom. Phil gently scrubs at the blood that encrusts his hands, careful not to hurt Techno in the process. He says nothing, and it scares Techno. Is he mad? Disappointed? Does he want to kick Techno out? Techno shudders at the thought. He doesn’t want to be alone again. So he does the only thing he can think to do.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he says, wincing at how small and fragile his voice sounds, as though he’ll break if someone so much as touches him a bit too roughly. Phill stills and Techno thinks he’s done something wrong, but Phil’s arms wrap around him, pulling him to the man’s chest. Gentle hands run through his hair. The steady motion is oddly comforting. Phil hums a simple melody, calming and sweet.</p><p>“We can’t stay here,” He says after a few minutes. Techno’s eyes widen.</p><p>“You’re not going to kick me out?”</p><p>“No. No, you deserve a home Techno. You’re still a child,”</p><p>“I killed them,”</p><p>“I’m sure they deserved it,” and that startles a laugh out of Techno. Phil chuckles as well, seeming to have gotten the response he wanted.</p><p>“Where will we go?”</p><p>“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out,”</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Techno and Ranboo ended up moving to the capital. Techno hadn’t wanted to at first, but Ranboo’s eyes had practically sparkled when he brought it up, and Techno couldn’t tell him no. He found a place above a small bakery, just big enough for the two of them. It was on the outskirts of the city, warm, and it always smelled like fresh-baked bread. Techno found that he was content there. Peaceful. It wasn’t as quiet as the forest, but Ranboo was happier, and that was enough for Techno.</p><p>He still kept his own hood on when they went out, but Ranboo seemed comfortable enough not to. There were plenty of hybrids in the area, so he didn’t stand out. The bakery was owned by a young woman named Niki, who was all warm smiles and friendly gestures. She quickly took a liking to the kid, and Techno couldn’t blame her. Ranboo seemed to like her as well, spending a lot of time helping out in the bakery.</p><p>For the first time in his life, Techno didn't spend his days running from his past. Instead, he set his feet firmly on the path towards the future, with Ranboo guiding him along.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>techno is happy??? i wonder how i can Make That An Issue :)</p><p>idk if the tense switches in the flashback make sense??? please lmk!<br/>also this chapter was a lot more text heavy but *shrug* i'm kinda bad at writing dialogue so i was just trying to avoid it tbh<br/>sorry if they're a bit ooc, i'm really just projecting big time lmao<br/>thank you all so much for your kind comments on the last chapter, they really mean a lot ;-;<br/>i don't think i'll have a consistent upload schedule bc i'm in the last stretch of senior year and i'm suffering rip. sorry!!! i'll try to upload as often as possible though, i really enjoy writing this fic :)<br/>thanks again,<br/>- ☘ (yes that's the signature i'm going with lmao)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. if the earth moves (where would you be?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Techno and Ranboo move. Techno contacts an old friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By the time Ranboo turned 12, he was flourishing. Niki let him help out in the bakery and he would always return home with some baked good or another. Techno settled in well to the new lifestyle, thankful that no one questioned his hood or mask as he went about his business. People hadn’t yet seemed to catch on to the fact that he had moved— no one had shown up with money and a request in quite some time. It was nice, if a little strange. Techno allowed himself to feel happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He let his guard down.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki was kind, seemingly harmless, but Techno could see the strength behind her every move. She had a fiery resolve that people often looked past. That was their own fault, though. She was not harmless, this Techno knew. But she was kind and genuine and peaceful, and Ranboo liked her. It was terrifyingly easy to trust her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno decided he liked her.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bakery itself was quaint— it was full of more plants than Techno could name and always smelled of fresh-baked bread. There weren’t too many people at any given point. Sometimes a boy with loose brown curls would come in, guitar in hand, and play a soft tune for a little while, Niki giving him a warm smile and a muffin before he left. He seemed nice enough, though he always eyed Techno with a bit of apprehension. Techno pointedly ignored him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno himself would sit in the bakery when he wasn’t busy, content to read in the warmth that the mid-afternoon sun provided. Ranboo still dragged him out every day to practice fighting in the garden at the back of the bakery. Sometimes Niki watched, something unreadable in her expression. They always finished by the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, Niki greeting them with a warm smile and a snack. She was a good friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It had been so long since he had one of those.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few months of staying in that little place above the bakery, Techno knew he couldn’t afford for them to stay there much longer. He didn’t tell Ranboo— god knows the kid needed some stability in his life. As much as Techno enjoyed retirement, it didn’t pay well. He was able to live off of selling his little trinkets before because he had built his house himself, and he had saved up some money over the years. But taking care of a kid was expensive, and so was owning property in the capital. He had depleted most of that money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he grabbed a pen and some paper and sat down, preparing to write to someone he hadn’t talked to in years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first time Techno meets Schlatt, it’s a complete accident. The voices have been getting progressively louder over the past few days, drowning out his thoughts with a constant drone of </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill, kill, kill, bLOOD, DEATH, GIVE US BLOOD</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He leaves the house in a panic, not wanting to cause any harm to Phil. So he finds himself wandering the streets, dipping through alleyways in an attempt to avoid any people that might be out this late at night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time Techno meets Schlatt, he almost kills the man. He’s been walking for a while, lost in his head, when he feels a weight on his shoulder— a hand. He whips around, pulling an ever-present dagger from his belt and holding it up to the neck of the hand’s owner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He comes face-to-face with a man, no older than 30, staring back down at him. He has dark brown hair slicked back against two large, curly horns that protrude from either side of his head. He wears a suit, a bit rumpled but still expensive-looking, and smells— strangely— of honey. Slowly, he raises his hands, a manic grin spreading across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pointing knives at people is dangerous, kid,” He says, amusement lacing his voice. Techno narrows his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a dagger,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same thing. You know how to use it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I just carry it around and wave it at people for a quick laugh,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re funny, kid. The name’s Schatt,” He smirks, and Techno lets out a small growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I’m not telling you my name,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smart. Mind getting your knife away from my neck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a dagger. And not until you tell me why you grabbed me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked stressed. Thought you could use someone to snap you out of it. Didn’t think you’d try to slice my head off,” Reluctantly, Techno moves his dagger away, watching the man’s movements carefully. Schlatt instantly relaxes, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the wall of the alley. They stand there in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other. “...You any good with that?” Schlatt finally speaks up, nodding towards the dagger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to make some money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m offering you a job, kid,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Sure,” He doesn’t know what makes him believe the ram hybrid so easily, but the voices are silent and he seems like he’s telling the truth, so he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Schlatt takes a slip of paper and a pen out of his pocket, scribbling something on it before handing it to Techno. “Meet me at this address tomorrow evening. Bring your knife,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a dagger,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say. No pressure to show up, but I know some people that would pay well for that kind of skill set,” Techno raises an eyebrow at that, but Schlatt simply smirks again. “I should head out— meetings to attend and shit. See you tomorrow. Or not,” With that Schlatt turns around, ducking out of the alleyway and into the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno decides that he has nothing to lose.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s how Techno finds himself wandering the streets again the next day, scrap of paper in one hand and his dagger held securely in the other. The address itself is pretty easy to find— it ends up being an unassuming building on one of the quieter streets in town. As he approaches it, the door swings open. Schlatt stands there, a knowing look on his face and his hands shoved deep into his pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on in, kid,” He says gesturing inside with his head. “We don’t have all day,” Techno nods, trailing behind the man as he strides through the hallways. It’s a nice enough place, if a little stuffy. The carpets that line the hardwood floors look expensive, golden thread weaving through various shades of red. There are fancy lamps set into the walls, held on by intricately detailed gold holders, the metal shaped into leaves twisting from the lamps to the walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno thinks they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a minute or so, Schlatt stops in front of a heavy wooden door. Techno can hear voices on the other side, but they’re too quiet for him to make out what they’re saying “Let me do the talking, okay?” Without waiting for a response, Schlatt pushes the door open. “Gentlemen!” He says, spreading his arms open. “Have a seat,” He walks towards a desk at the other side of the room, gesturing for Techno to follow him. Techno complies. Going to stand behind Schlatt, he gets a good look at the other people in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are two men, each looking no younger than 40, with graying hair and fancy clothes. Techno immediately decides he doesn’t like them. They’re the type of people that would’ve shown up at the Arena to watch in amusement as he ripped into prisoner after prisoner. The type of people who would view him as nothing more than an animal, a monster, a tool used for their amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, Techno realizes as he listens to them talk with Schlatt, they’re the type of people that will pay very well for that kind of thing. And if there's anything Techno knows how to do, it’s killing people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno ends up taking the job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He works with Schlatt quite a lot over the years, the man always eager to help him find a job (for a share of the pay, of course.) Techno is fine with it. The jobs help him keep the voices quiet, at least for a while, and he gets some money out of it as well. In its own, twisted way, it’s nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno tells himself he’s fine with it.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Schlatt wrote back almost instantly, and Techno could almost hear his smirk through the ink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I knew you’d come back,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Schlatt wrote, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I told you retirement wasn’t for you. I’m sure I can scrounge up a few jobs for you to look at. You know where to find me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next evening Techno donned his cloak and mask, telling Ranboo that he had some business to take care of and not to wait up for him. Schlatt was cryptic as always, and Techno hoped he hadn’t moved from the last time Techno was in the capital. Knowing the man, he probably hadn’t. And so Techno set off through the familiar streets, ducking into a small bar a bit further into the city. It was loud and crowded, and Techno didn’t like it one bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People pressed against him from every side, jostling him as they stumbled around drunkenly. The stale scent of alcohol mixed with vomit filled his nostrils, putrid and sour. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why Schlatt liked this place so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(His fingers itched to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stab</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone and see what chaos ensued.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade!” A voice rang out over the din of the crowd. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Speak of the devil</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He saw Schlatt making his way over, his horns glinting in the dim light. The first thing Techno noticed was how </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span> his old friend looked. To an outsider he would’ve looked normal— his signature smirk was still present on his face and his posture was relaxed and confident as always. But to Techno his smile lacked its usual mischief, and his eyes lacked their usual impish sparkle. The bags under his eyes were darker than Techno remembered, and his face seemed sunken and dull. His suit was rumpled and his hair was messily pushed away from his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno ignored the pang of concern he felt at the sight.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt,” Techno responded. He decided he wouldn’t comment on the man’s appearance. Schlatt placed a firm hand on Techno’s back, maneuvering him through the crowd, rambling on about something. Techno simply nodded along, allowing himself to be guided back to Schlatt’s office. The room was nicer than the rest of the bar— quieter too. There was a man he didn’t recognize behind Schlatt’s desk, sifting through stacks of paper. As soon as they walked through the door, the man stood up, moving so that Schlatt could sit. He lingered behind Schlatt though, not making a move to leave. Techno eyed him cautiously as he sat down. Schlatt either didn’t notice or didn’t care because he didn’t say anything about it, opting instead to pull out a few files from one of the stacks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have three options for you,” He said. “The first is this one. Business rivalry between some bigwigs. One of them wants the other out of the way, that kind of stuff. He says he’ll pay well. Wants a trophy,” Techno hummed noncommittally, and Schlatt took that as his cue to continue. “The second is a bit more interesting. It’ll require a bit of travel though. There are reports of a corrupt duke a few counties over. He’s a fan of cruelty, it seems. He’s trying to set up something similar to the Arena,” Techno narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought that was illegal,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He found a loophole, apparently. Anyways, the pay isn’t as good but it seems more up your alley. As for the last one… Well, I don’t think you’ll like it as much but I have to give you all the options,” He looked up at Techno, who waved a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s… a group of people who are looking for someone. A kid apparently escaped their custody a while ago and they’ve been looking for it since then. They don’t care if the kid is dead or alive, but they say that it’s too dangerous to be out and about. This kid is a hybrid— they think it’s an enderman,” Techno paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Did they say exactly how long this kid has been missing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think they said around two years?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any other distinct characteristics?” Techno held his breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It could be a coincidence, a different person</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a traitorous voice piped up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Because there are so many enderman hybrids running around that escaped from somewhere two years ago</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno tried very hard to ignore that voice.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heterochromia. One eye is red and the other is green,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Are you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Absolutely not,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t do kids,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have before. What’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things change,” Techno hissed. “I’ll take the second one,” He snatched the file up from the desk, doing everything in his power to keep himself from trembling. The voices were roaring in his ears, telling him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill them, protect his kid, make them pay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade, you-” Techno shot up from his seat, the chair toppling to the ground with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Both Schlatt and the man behind him flinched at the sudden movement, taking note of the barely-contained rage behind Techno’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll report to you when the job is done. It was nice seeing you again, Schlatt,” With that Techno stormed out, pushing his way back through the crowded bar and into the cool night air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, shakily, he breathed in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sword felt heavy at his side, burning into his legs as though it was begging him to use it. To pierce the blade into the heart of anyone who dared come near him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voices screamed louder than they had in years, rejoicing at the prospect of </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood, bLOOD, BLOOD</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the taste of blood on his lips, metallic and sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel an arrow piercing his shoulder, white-hot pain coursing through his whole body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered watching the life slowly drain from yet another person’s eyes, the crowd cheering and laughing at the spectacle before them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel poison coursing through his veins, sapping away at his energy as he forged on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered the fear and desperation in Ranboo’s eyes as he was wheeled out into the ring in a cage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered frantic eyes meeting his own, a sense of protectiveness washing over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno’s breath hitched, something awful lodging itself in his throat, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span> did it hurt. Techno tried to breathe, but no air came. He felt a pain in his lungs, sharp and rough. He clawed desperately at his chest, begging it to let him breathe. Something wet hit his hand and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was crying. He sunk to the ground, surprised to find soft grass beneath him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Distantly, he wondered how far he had gone.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clutched his head in his hands, allowing himself to shatter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It had been so long.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had thought that he and Ranboo would be safe, he had thought he would be left alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Oh, how foolish he had been.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t want to tell Ranboo. He couldn’t— not when the kid was finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The kid deserved that much, at least, and Techno was willing to shoulder this burden alone if it meant he could keep it that way. He scrubbed furiously at his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Did he deserve to cry?)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright to be upset,” Phil says, his hands combing through Techno’s hair. His voice is impossibly soft and gentle, and something curls around Techno’s heart and </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeezes</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He lets out a quiet whine and buries his face into the folds of Phil’s tunic. Phil hums, the sound reverberating through his chest. Techno took a long, painful breath, choking back a sob. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Just focus on me,” He takes one of Techno’s hands and places it on his own chest, letting Techno feel its steady rise and fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno tries to follow along, his breathing still shaky but much slower. “They’re so loud,” He whimpers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They- they want me to hurt you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to hurt me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t blame you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you hurt me, I mean. It won’t- I won’t be mad. You still deserve to have someone that loves you, Techno, no matter what those voices tell you to do. I promise,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno sobs into Phil’s shirt, open and raw and vulnerable. It feels nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets better at ignoring the voices over the years, but they’re still too much at times. Sometimes he leaves for days on end, not wanting to cause Phil any harm. Phil is always there when he gets back, waiting with a warm meal and open arms. Even when Techno lashes out, his dagger leaving a scar on Phil’s face, the man does not waver, does not stray from his promise. Techno still cries into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Techno grows older, Phil can no longer shield him from the insults and threats that are hurled his way. They are familiar, but not in the way that Phil’s golden hair or soft hands are. They sound like the clashing of metal and they taste like blood. Each one brings him back to his cage, little by little. He’s a monster, this he knows. But Phil, for a brief moment, had given him peace, normality, </span>
  <em>
    <span>happiness</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He should’ve known it wouldn’t last.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Monsters don’t deserve to cry.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno didn’t know how he made it back to the bakery, but when he did he collapsed into the first chair he saw, head landing on the wooden table with a heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was so, so tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno?” He heard a soft voice call from behind him. He grunted in response— he couldn’t muster the energy to talk. Niki padded over to him, taking a seat next to him. “Are you alright?” He turned to look at her, and he could see the concern on her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wanted to say. He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tired,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” She looked skeptical, but she let it slide. Techno was grateful for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should- I should probably go upstairs,” He quickly got up, moving to head back to his apartment. Niki caught his arm, her grip firm enough that Techno stopped in his tracks, but still gentle in a way that was so distinctly </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay? I won’t judge you or tell anyone. Just… it’s not good to hold things in,” And her voice was so earnest that Techno couldn’t help but believe her. So he nodded. She released his arm, and he rushed up the stairs. He quietly opened the door to the apartment he shared with Ranboo, not wanting to wake the kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing he saw was that Ranboo had fallen asleep on one of the chairs in the kitchen, presumably having fallen asleep waiting for Techno. Techno smiled softly at the sight, walking over and draping his cloak over the sleeping boy. He looked so peaceful. Ever so carefully, Techno picked him up. He curled into Techno’s chest, and Techno melted. His kid was </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in his arms, and Techno would do anything to keep it that way.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HEYYYYYYYY<br/>so the angst (kinda) begins :)<br/>sorry this chapter took so long to come out— a lot of shit has happened in my life this past week and i'm still struggling to process it.<br/>ANYWAYS thank you again for all your kind comments!! they really mean a lot.<br/>enjoy,<br/>-☘ :)</p><p>my cat made a contibution to this chapter. very well said, if i do say so myself:<br/>swwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwqaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa	W22222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222HG56</p><p>\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\X/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. i'll push it down (these burning hands won't seem to do)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>techno has a job??????? good for him good for him</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Techno needed to tell Ranboo that he would have to leave for a while, he knew this. But he didn’t want to leave the kid alone, even if Niki would still be there. He trusted her, sure, but there was a looming sense of dread that had been hanging over him since his meeting with Schlatt. He didn’t want to leave Ranboo’s side for more than a few minutes. If he didn’t leave for the job, however, he wouldn’t be able to afford to keep them there, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be objectively worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and told his kid he had to leave for a while. Ranboo understood, wishing Techno luck with that impossibly bright smile on his face. Before Techno left he gave Ranboo a present— a small damascus steel dagger with a combination of rubies and emeralds embedded in the handle. The kid’s face lit up as he took it, words of thanks spilling from his lips. Techno simply grinned and ruffled Ranboo’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just promise me you’ll stay safe while I’m gone,” Techno said. Ranboo looked up at him, and his eyes hardened into something sincere and determined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~o~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo turned the dagger over in his hands. It was beautiful, the way the blade almost glowed in the late-afternoon sun, the light illuminating the assortment of rubies and emeralds that encrusted the handle. There were a few imperfections in it— Techno had probably crafted it himself. Ranboo smiled softly at the thought. He honestly hadn’t expected Techno to let him stick around for as long as he had— he figured the man would get tired of him pretty quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave Ranboo a place to stay, warm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He gave him a book to write down things so he would remember, taught him how to fight, protected him, listened to him when he said where he wanted to move. He smiled at Ranboo and ruffled his hair when he rambled about baking and comforted him when he woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno was good. Techno stayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Ranboo was happy. Genuinely, unabashedly happy. He loved baking with Niki and training with Techno and just being allowed to do what he wanted, to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>free</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was nice. He allowed his eyes to slide closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It won’t last</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a traitorous part of him said, and for once Ranboo didn’t believe it. Instead he allowed himself to believe that Techno would stay, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Techno would stay. He hummed a soft melody to himself— something Techno hummed to him whenever he had nightmares. He didn’t know how long he laid there, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. The sun was warm on his face, and the flowers smelled good, and the soft breeze felt nice against his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After some time, a shadow fell over his eyelids, the smell of fresh-baked bread filling the air. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find Niki standing over him, a soft smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s lunchtime,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Give me a moment,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” She walked back into the bakery, a bell jingling as she closed the door. Slowly, Ranboo got up, tucking the dagger into its sheath at his waist. Whatever Niki made smelled good, and he quickly took a seat at one of the heavy wooden tables. She joined him a moment late, two steaming bowls in her hands and a plate of bread balanced in the crook of her elbow. She set the bowls and the bread, ducking back into the kitchen and returning a moment later with a third bowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone else is coming?” Ranboo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur will be joining us any minute,” Niki explained. Ranboo nodded his head. Wilbur was nice enough— quiet and smart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes unnerved Ranboo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were too analytical, too observant. He knew better than to think Wilbur was harmless. Sure, he wasn’t as physically strong as Techno, but brute strength wasn’t the only thing that made people dangerous. His smile was always warm, and his voice was soothing and honeyed, but his eyes were sharp and calculating and Ranboo knew that he could take someone down with just his words and intellect. But Niki trusted him, and Ranboo trusted Niki, so he let himself relax around the man, if only just a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just under a minute later Wilbur walked in, guitar slung over his shoulder and an easy grin on his face. He sank into the chair next to Niki with a deep sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re being dramatic, Wil,” Niki said, giving him an exasperated smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You try dealing with that gremlin child,” Wilbur groaned. He turned to Ranboo, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Have you met Tommy?” Ranboo shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… don’t get out much?” He said, wincing at how it sounded more like a question than a proper response. “I don’t really deal with...” he trailed off, vaguely gesturing around him, hoping Wilbur would understand. “People? Yeah. I don’t deal with people very well,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Wilbur nodded. “Makes sense, I guess,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Technoblade’s your dad, right?” Ranboo choked on the tea he had been drinking. “He doesn’t really seem to like people all that much, so I suppose that if you’re his kid…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Ranboo sputtered, feeling his face heat up. “He’s- I’m not- I’m not his kid!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not? With how he acts, I could’ve sworn…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I just- He just took me in? He gave me a place to stay and helped me get out of a really bad situation,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds a lot like he adopted you,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur,” Niki interrupted, a warning clear in her voice. “You’re making him uncomfortable,” Wilbur leaned back in his seat, his eyes scanning over Ranboo carefully. Ranboo shifted under the intensity of his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Fine,” Wilbur finally relented. “Let’s eat before this soup gets cold,” Ranboo felt himself relax, and Niki sent him an apologetic smile. He smiled back in a way he hoped would be comforting and dug into his soup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t Techno’s kid, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~o~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took Techno a little under a week to get to the city that Schlatt had told him about— if it could even be considered a city. The first thing he noticed about it was that it was dirty, incredibly so. The streets were grimy and the buildings were cramped together and had obviously seen better days. He frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(These were no conditions for anyone to live in.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only remotely nice building he could see was a manor sitting at the end of what he presumed was the main street. It was dark and imposing, made of grimy stone and with two spires— one on each side— that pierced the sky like knives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t see many people, but the ones he did see were skittish, always avoiding his gaze and ducking into buildings or alleyways as he approached. They whispered in between themselves, their voices shaky, but he could never quite make out their words. He pretended he didn’t see the way they glanced at him as they spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead he set his shoulders, forging ahead towards the manor. There were guards stationed at the gates, and Techno took careful note of both their movement and what weapons they carried. As he approached, he slipped into an alleyway, careful not to be seen. He slipped his mask on, securing it to his face. It was almost dusk, almost dark enough for Techno to move around unnoticed, and Techno was nothing if not patient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When darkness finally blanketed the city, Techno began to move again. He made sure to duck through alleys and smaller streets as he drew closer to the manor. After a few minutes, he finally stood in front of a wall. Like many buildings in the city, it looked as though it had seen better days. Well. Better for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was laughably easy for him to find crevices in the stones that made up the wall, and he scaled over it with practiced ease, landing softly on the other side. There were no guards in sight, but he couldn’t risk it. He ducked through a nearby doorway and into the manor. It was cold and lifeless, not a single person in sight. He could hear footsteps in the distance— guards, he figured. He’d have to be careful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carefully made his way through the hallways, following along with the map Schlatt had given him in his head. It was fairly easy to find the duke’s quarters, and the security at the manor was laughable. This man was either arrogant or a lot less rich than he let on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It was probably both.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duke was unconcerned with his surroundings— he didn’t so much as flinch when Techno slipped into the room. The voices in his head murmured amongst themselves. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It would be so easy to kill him now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, some of them said. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He has information we need</span>
  </em>
  <span>, others argued, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we need to focus on the job. We need money. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We need b̶̯̄l̴ͅo̵͚͗͝o̸̢̐̍d̷͈͌̚, give us blood, blood, blood. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Be reasonable. Focus. Get the information we need. Be efficient. Then, we can kill him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno sighed, drawing a dagger from his belt.. The duke jumped at that, whipping around to face him. Techno raised an eyebrow at the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Took you long enough to notice,” He said, voice cold and even. The duke opened his mouth— presumably to call for guards— but before he could speak, Techno flung the dagger at him, the blade just missing his head and embedding itself in the wall behind his desk. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” The man snapped his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want from me?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing much. I’ve just heard some… rumors about you. Or rather, about what you’ve been up to, and to be completely honest, I don’t like them. So I figured I’d ask you about them. Hear it directly from the horse’s mouth and all that,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- What rumors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me,” Techno leaned towards the duke, letting a hand drop to the sword at his side. “Have you ever heard about the Arena?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It- Wasn’t it that really big fighting ring for hybrids from a while back? The really popular one? I thought it was taken down,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I did too. I thought people had learned their lesson from that. So imagine my surprise when I heard a rumor that some duke from out in the middle of nowhere,” Techno’s grip on his sword tightened, and he grinned as the man in front of him flinched. So he was afraid. Good. “Was trying to do something like that again? I mean, that would just be stupid, wouldn’t it? And then I heard how he treated his people and I thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>How can I let anyone like that stay in charge?</span>
  </em>
  <span> So I came to find him. Didn’t think you’d be such a coward, though,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know what you’re talking about,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t I? A lot of people don’t like you, you know. And they’re willing to pay for your death,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s what you’re here for? Money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Among other things, yes,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can pay you! Whatever you’re being offered, I can double it,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Money isn’t the only thing I want. You see, I was… intimately familiar with the Arena, and I didn’t like it. In fact,”  Techno drew his sword, inspecting the blade as it glistened in the dim candlelight. “I’ve made it a mission of mine to make sure that nothing similar is ever given the chance to grow. I wonder if killing you would help with that. Cut off the head of the snake to weaken the body. You understand,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can tell you whatever you want! Just- don’t kill me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll consider it,” He twirled the sword around in his hand. The man looked at it, weighing his options for a moment before inhaling sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Fine. What do you want to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, why don’t we start with the easiest question: Are the rumors true?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What rumors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on now,” Techno pointed his sword at the man’s neck. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know which ones,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s complicated,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a yes or no question,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- yes,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Was that so hard? Now, who else is involved in this?” The man hesitated a moment, glancing down at Techno’s sword before telling him a list of names and locations. Techno nodded, making a note of each one. He’d deal with them later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you acting independently?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. We have a, uh, sponsor. They never gave us names, but they paid us well,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> about them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Techno hummed at that, raising an eyebrow. “I swear I know nothing about them,” The duke said, almost pleading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so,” Techno replied, still skeptical. “Well, I’ve heard everything I need to,” He shifted so the tip of his sword pinched the skin on the duke’s neck ever so slightly. The man widened his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve told you what you wanted to know, now keep your end of the deal,” He hissed. Techno hummed again, digging his sword deeper into the man’s neck, grinning when blood began to trickle down the blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s time for blood</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the voices murmured. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’ve been patient, now give us what you owe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I seem to recall saying that I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>consider</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. And I did. I took on a job, you know, and I really should do it. Besides,” He shifted his sword so it was pointing to the man’s chest. “Dead men tell no tales,” He plunged the blade through the duke’s heart, reveling in the coppery smell that filled the air. The voices cheered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>M̶̼̔ő̵̢̼̎ȓ̶̟e̵̦̻͆</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Feed us. Give us more.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And, well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno had a list of names and locations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he indulged them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He didn’t want to admit how much he missed it.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the Arena, Techno had always wondered what freedom felt like. Now, as he sits on the mossy shore of a small pond washing the dried flakes of blood off his hands, he thinks he understands. Sure, he still kills people, but he knows their crimes and Schaltt never forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks,</span>
  <em>
    <span> having a choice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Unfamiliar, but nice nonetheless</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s good at his job, clean and efficient, and he gets paid well. He hasn’t told Phil about it, but he’s pretty sure the man has figured it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say anything, but he always makes sure that the medical supplies are replenished and that a door is unlocked for when Techno gets home. Techno can tell Phil is worried, if the looks he gives him when he thinks Techno isn’t looking are anything to go by. Techno doesn’t stop— it’s comforting to know that some good might come out of his time in the Arena. And Phil doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he stumbles home with a gash on his side, fingers clutched around it in a futile attempt to stop the blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His target had hired more guards last-minute, and Techno had been unprepared. It’s his own fault, really, and he’s suffering the consequences. He can deal with it, though. It’s nothing he hasn’t handled before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t expect Phil to be waiting for him when he steps through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man immediately rushes up to Techno when he sees his injury. Phil quickly pulls him further into, gently guiding him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.He tugs at Techno’s sleeve, and Techno takes that as a cue to pull his shirt over his head. Phil frowns as he observes the wound on Techno’s side. He grabs a cloth from a cabinet and dampens it with warm water before beginning to clean the wound, still not saying anything. Techno winces as soon as it makes contact, resisting the urge to let out a hiss of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Phil asks after a few minutes, his voice impossibly soft, and Techno can’t find it in himself to lie to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got stabbed,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knife, probably. Might’ve been a sword. It was dark, I couldn’t tell,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno, please,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, I got a job,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured it was something like that,” They fall silent again, Phil carefully wrapping bandages around Techno’s abdomen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you happy?” Phil asks, almost too quiet for Techno to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think… I think I am,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you don’t need to apologize. I wish you would’ve told me earlier, but I understand your hesitance. I’m glad I found out now,” Phil says, and the way he says it makes it sound as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… Okay,” Phil grins at him, tying off the bandages before pulling him to his chest. Techno relaxes into the embrace letting out a relieved sigh. “Thank you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something didn’t sit right with Techno— not since his talk with the duke. As soon as he arrived back at the capital he made his way over to Schlatt’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The job with the kid,” He said before the other could even open his mouth.. “Tell me more about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t want to take it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t,” Techno replied, “I want to know about the people behind it. Who they are, where they’re from, who else they’re recruiting for it. That sort of thing,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade,” Schlatt’s voice was calm as ever, and it irritated Techno to no end. “You know I’m not supposed to talk about clients’-” Techno stood abruptly, one hand holding Schlatt’s shirt in a death grip as the other reached for the sword at his hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more now, Schlatt, or I swear to the gods-” He took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I will find out,” He released Schlatt’s shirt and sat back down, each movement laced with tension. The man in question smoothed his shirt out carefully, leaning back in his chair and pursing his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I didn’t know you any better I’d say that this sounds… personal,” Techno narrowed his eyes. “I’d say you sound attached,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt,” Techno growled, warning clear in his voice. The ram hybrid raised his hands in resignation before sliding a file towards Techno. It was thin. Too thin. He glared at Schlatt. Schlatt sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve been recruiting other people as well. It’s a big thing in the underground— there’s a huge reward. They don’t want to be too public about it because their business is a bit shady. Apparently this kid was one of their biggest assets. Very difficult to find. I don’t know exactly how many people are looking for him, but it’s a lot,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Schlatt. Barely even 12,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you know where he is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t tell you that,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Well if you were, hypothetically, involved with this child, I’d have to tell you to be careful. Off the record, of course,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And off the record, I’d have to say that if I were involved with that kid in any way, I’d protect him to my dying breath. I’d give him everything that I have to make sure that he’s allowed to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’d ask you to keep me updated on what these people are doing, where they are, how to keep this kid </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would I get out of this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Techno slid a pouch over to Schlatt, the coins inside clicking against each other. “And I can do some jobs with no pay. All the money would go to you,” Schlatt looks down at the pouch, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…Some would say you’ve gone soft, Technoblade,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would that be so bad? To be soft, I mean— to care about someone. If I were to care about the kid, I’d say that he gives me something to live for. I’d say he makes me a good person,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help you. Here,” He slid a thick file over to Techno. “This is all the information I have. If I get anything else I’ll tell you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Techno said. Schlatt nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my friend, Techno. I’m glad you’re happy,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Techno grabbed the file from the table. “I’ll see you later,” Schlatt raised a hand up to wave goodbye, and with that Techno left. It was late, but as he approached the bakery he saw that a light was on. When he opened the door a draft of warm air hit his face and the familiar scent of bread filled the air. He could hear faint noises coming from the kitchen— someone clamoring around as well as the sound of Niki humming. He felt a soft smile form on his face as he made his way up to his apartment. Ranboo was asleep on the couch, a book in his hands. Carefully, he placed the book on the ground and picked Ranboo up, carrying him to his room and gently placing him on his bed. The kid groaned as Techno let go of him, curling towards Techno and clutching onto his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay,” He murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Techno did, eventually falling asleep on a chair next to Ranboo’s bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Techno was surprised to find that he was happy.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i tried some ranboo pov??? does it make sense?????</p><p>me, 2 weeks ago: i have spring break soon i'll be able to work on my fic<br/>me now, looking at my 78 hours of combined playtime from this past week: ANYWAYS.........</p><p>consistent schedule? is that some type of sauce???</p><p>yeah sorry this took so long i was vibing on hollow knight and don't starve together lmao.</p><p>if there are any typos no there arent &lt;3 (please do tell me though i wrote this at like 3am fsdjk)</p><p>i'm actually responding to comments? no way dude (yes :D)</p><p>anyways this chapter is a bit longer. sorry it took so long to come out. hope you enjoyed it!<br/>- ☘</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. i'm alone, awake (just creaking with the floors)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>uh oh guys that's no good</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HIIIII I'M BAAACK!!!!!!<br/>sent my hard drive to the manufacturer and they said they'd be able to retrieve my files so :)<br/>also its my bday today :DDD<br/>ANYWAYS HERE YA GO ENJOY</p><p>p.s. deleting the not-chapter. thank you for all your kind words :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Techno awoke to a body slamming into his. He jolted, a hand flying to his dagger before he saw a mess of black and white. He relaxed with a sigh, carding his fingers through Ranboo’s hair.</p><p>“Hey,” He said, voice laced with the remnants of sleep. “How have you been?” Ranboo said something in response, his voice muffled by Techno’s shirt as he pressed his face into the man’s chest. Techno chuckled. “I can’t hear you, kid,” Ranboo gave another muffled response before raising his head, his mismatched eyes meeting Techno’s.</p><p>“I thought you weren’t going to come back,” He murmured, his voice almost too soft for Techno to hear.</p><p>(Techno’s heart didn’t tighten painfully in his chest at the kid’s words— not at all.)</p><p>“Of course I came back, kid. I can’t just leave you alone,”</p><p>“Do you promise?” Ranboo held up a long, slender pinky to Techno, trembling ever so slightly. Techno took it in his own without hesitation, wrapping their fingers together.</p><p>“I swear it. I promised I’d protect you to my dying breath, and I swear by my sword that I will not break that promise. I’ll always come back to you, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” Ranboo said, releasing their fingers but keeping his eyes locked on Techno’s. “I trust you,”</p><p>And Techno knew the weight behind those words, knew how hard it was to trust after years of being forced to fight and hate everyone around you. Of not allowing yourself to trust because trust meant betrayal, sharp and painful.</p><p>So he smiled down at Ranboo, soft and genuine, holding his kid even closer to his chest, allowing him to hear the steady rhythm of his heart. They stayed there for a while, a comfortable silence lapsing over them, broken only by the soft chirping of morning birds outside their apartment and the faint sound of Niki humming as she prepared the bakery for opening.</p><p>“You know,” Ranboo said after a few minutes. “While you were gone Wilbur asked if I was your kid,”</p><p>“Wilbur?”</p><p>“Niki’s friend. The one who plays guitar,”</p><p>“Oh, him,”</p><p>“Yeah…” Ranboo trailed off, seeming to contemplate his next words carefully. “Am I?” He finally asked, his eyes darting around the room, looking everywhere but at Techno. Techno stilled. “Your kid, I mean,” Ranboo continued, the words spilling out of his mouth. “I don’t- I mean- You seemed really stand-offish when we first met and, sure, you saved me from that fighting ring and you bought me a book so I could remember things and you taught me how to use a sword, and I-”</p><p>“Kid,” Techno cut him off before he could continue. “Breathe,” Ranboo nodded, taking a deep inhale.</p><p>“Am I your kid?” And he was so hesitant when he asked that, curling in on himself, trying to make himself look small, that Techno couldn’t help the pang that shot through his heart. </p><p>“Do you want to be?” He asked, and Ranboo blinked up at him, obviously not expecting that reply.</p><p>“I think- I think I’d like that very much, yes,”</p><p>“Then yes, Ranboo, you’re my kid,”</p><p>“Is it really that easy?”</p><p>“Well… not legally speaking, no, but I don’t care much about that,” Techno said, eliciting a small huff of laughter from the kid before he sobered up again, clutching Techno’s shirt like a lifeline.</p><p>“Are you sure you want… me?”</p><p>“More sure than I’ve ever been,” Techno leaned down, bumping his forehead against Ranboo’s. “I promise,”</p><p>“I don’t- I can’t remember much, and I get scared so easily, and-”</p><p>“And that’s okay. You’re just a kid— you deserve to be cared for,”</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Phil, why did you let me stay?” Techno asks one day as the two wander through one of the many markets in the capital. Phil looks down at him, an unreadable expression on his face.</p><p>“I don’t know,”</p><p>“Oh,” Techo murmured, unsure why he felt so disappointed at Phil’s response.</p><p>“But I don’t regret it. I mean, you were- are- still so young, and you deserve another chance at life. And I guess I wanted to give that to you because I <em> knew </em> that no one else would. But I really don’t know. At the time, I just saw you and thought ‘Here’s a kid that needs to be cared for, cared <em> about </em>’, so I took you in. I didn’t really think about it,”</p><p>Techno doesn’t respond— he doesn’t know how to— but he walks closer to Phil, gripping the man’s hand even tighter. “I’ve killed people. I’m a monster,” Phil’s expression immediately soured.</p><p>“The people who put a child in a cage and told them to either kill or be killed are the monsters. No one should be put in a situation like that, especially not someone as young as you. You are not a monster for wanting to survive,” He scoffs, carefully selecting some fruits from one of the stalls.</p><p>Techno learns a lot about Phil after they move to the capital.</p><p>He learns that Phil used to be the captain of the royal guard before he injured his leg, that he knows this kingdom like the back of his hand, that he’s traveled to the Nether and the End. He describes his adventures to Techno, telling him of the withering heat of the Nether, about the glow of lava as it breaks through the darkness of the old fortresses. He speaks of the vast emptiness of the end, how barren islands dot the expanse of the void, the occasional city the only respite. He talks about jungles and meadows and mountains and deserts, and Techno hangs onto his every word. He describes his time as a royal guard— how the king was kind despite his status as a hybrid and how freeing it felt.</p><p>(To Techno, Phil is more amazing than any king could ever be.)</p><p>Techno finds that he’s happy with Phil, as chaotic as their life may be. He learns proper fighting techniques and Phil even gifts him a sword. It’s made of gold and it glints in the sunlight, a strange sheen covering the blade. Phil tells him what enchantments are and how to get them. He says he made the sword himself just for Techno.</p><p>Techno grips it even tighter.</p><p>“Is this what a family is like?” He asks one day. Phil pauses what he’s doing and for a split second Techno thinks he’s said something wrong, but then the man turns to him with a wide grin and all of Techno’s fears wash away.</p><p>“It is,” Phil replies.</p><p>“Oh. I think I like it,” Techno says, and he knows that it’s the truth.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Techno sighed, hefting the thick file Schlatt had given him onto one of the tables in Niki’s bakery. Ranboo was tucked away in a corner of the room, his notebook in his hands and two other boys sitting next to him— one brunet and one blond, both equally as loud. Ranboo seemed content, though, so Techno didn’t say anything. Niki had told them to be quieter multiple times, but they always returned to their original volume. She gave up after about 15 tries, opting to stand behind the counter and give them a soft smile as she scanned the room. Her eyes landed on Techno and she grinned at him, making her way over to where he was seated. Techno shifted to the side and closed the file, giving her room to sit.</p><p>“What’s that?” She asked, nodding her head towards the file.</p><p>“Work,”</p><p>“I see. What’s your job, anyway? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned it,”</p><p>“That would be because I was retired when we first met,” Techno hummed. “I’ve taken on some odd jobs from an old friend,”</p><p>“Ah, that makes sense. Living in the city is expensive,”</p><p>“You can say that again,” Came another voice. Techno turned around to see the musician— Wilbur, if he remembered properly— making his way over to their table, an easy grin on his face. He slumped down in the seat across from Niki, briefly pressing his head against the table before leaning back in his chair and looking at Techno. His eyes were analytical and sharp, and Techno had the distinct feeling that he was being judged.</p><p>He didn’t like it.</p><p>(It reminded him of prying eyes and harsh tongues, lashes and cages and chains.)</p><p>He sat stock-still, one hand heavy on the thick file in front of him, the other resting on the cool metal of his dagger’s handle. He kept his eyes locked on Wilbur’s, not wavering for even a second. They stayed like that, in a pseudo staring contest, for the better part of five minutes. Eventually Niki cleared her throat, snapping both of them out of it.</p><p>“The food is going to get cold,” She said.</p><p>“Of course,” Wilbur replied, falling back into the relaxed position he’d been in before. He nodded at Techno, the ever-present smile back on his face. After a few minutes, Techno saw movement out of the corner of his eyes, looking up to see Ranboo walking towards him.</p><p>“Hey kid,” He said as Ranboo drew closer.</p><p>“Hey dad,” Ranboo greeted, a hesitant smile on his face. Techno pointedly ignored the smug look on Wilbur’s face— he didn’t have time to unpack that.</p><p>(And <em> oh </em>, wasn’t that warmth in his chest new?)</p><p>“Did you need something?”</p><p>“Yeah, um, Tommy and Tubbo wanted to show me their favorite spot in the woods” He gestured to the kids he’d been talking to. “May I go?”</p><p>“Of course you may,” Techno replied, feeling a soft smile spread across his face. “Be safe,”</p><p>“I will. I promise,” Ranboo turned back to his friends, a grin on his face.</p><p>“Be back before dinner! Dad’s making soup,” Wilbur called after them as they left. The tall, blond child waved a hand in acknowledgment. When the door shut behind them, he sighed back against his chair. “They’re quite a handful, aren’t they?”</p><p>“I suppose,” Techno hummed. “It’s nice to see Ranboo coming out of his shell,”</p><p>“He’s certainly opened up a lot since the two of you moved here,” Niki agreed. “He’s a sweet kid— I’m happy for him,” Techno hummed an affirmation. He was doing all he could to keep his kid safe, to protect him. To make sure that he was happy, that he would <em> stay </em> happy. He had read through Schlatt’s information several times over, and had accounted for every little detail he could find.</p><p>Yet still Techno worried.</p><p>It was only natural, he presumed, to worry so much over someone you care about. The only other time he could recall caring so much was with Phil, but he knew the man could defend himself so he didn’t worry quite as much. And sure, Ranboo could probably defend himself too, if worse came to worst, but Techno would rather him not have to do so.</p><p>Niki and Wilbur had fallen into an easy conversation while Techno was lost in thought, so Techno opted to just lean back and listen to them talk. It was nice for a while, calm and quiet.</p><p>Peaceful.</p><p>But the peace didn’t last— it never did. The voices came back after a while, screaming at him that <em> Ranboo is in danger, help the child, help the pack, protect, protect, protect </em>, and boy, did it ever put him on high alert. The tension grew with every passing second, and the voices grew louder and louder until he could barely hear Niki and Wilbur over the din in his own head. It wasn’t long until Tubbo and Tommy came crashing back into the bakery.</p><p>Without Ranboo.</p><p>The voices fell into an eerie silence.</p><p>Their eyes were wide and they looked frazzled, breathing heavily where they stood in the doorway. Techno immediately stood, allowing his chair to clatter to the floor behind him. They simply stared at him, unable to get even a single word out as they struggled to catch their breaths. Techno stared back, narrowing his eyes.</p><p>“Where’s Ranboo?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. The boys shuffled in place, looking anywhere but at Techno “Well?” The kids looked at each other nervously before the shorter of the two nodded at the taller and took a small step forward.</p><p>“They- They took him,”</p><p>“Who?” Techno asked, straining to keep his voice even. He gripped the sword at his side tighter, his knuckles turning white. The voices pounded against his ears, their chant of <em> blood, death, kill, kill, kill </em> growing ever louder. “ <em> Who </em>took him?”</p><p>“I-” The brown-haired kid stumbled back, as if sensing the rage and bloodlust radiating from Techno. “We don’t know. We didn’t get a good look at them. Ranboo seemed to recognize them, though, right before they grabbed him,” Techno inhaled sharply and reached to the thick file on the table, flipping it open to an image of the uniform that the people from the fighting ring wore.</p><p>“Is this what they were wearing?”</p><p>“Yes,”</p><p>“Fuck,” Techno slammed the file shut and the voices begged for violence. He saw the shorter kid’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t make out the words over the din of his own head. He ran a hand through his hair, yanking at the pink strands in a futile attempt to calm himself down, to ground himself. The other hand remained on the hilt of his sword, seeking comfort in the engravings on it.</p><p>It was no use.</p><p>There was a weight on his shoulder and Techno immediately flinched, gripping the offending hand and flipping the person over with ease, his sword drawn and pointed at their neck.</p><p>Niki stared back up at him, brown eyes filled with concern Techno scrambled back, and Wilbur rushed to help Niki up, glaring at Techno as he dragged her away from the hybrid.</p><p>Techno stared down at his sword.</p><p>Ranboo was gone.</p><p>He had told Ranboo, he had <em> promised </em> the kid that he’d be safe with Techno, and now he was gone, and Techno hadn’t been able to stop it.</p><p>He had failed— failed himself, failed<em> Ranboo </em>.</p><p>And the first thing he did was attack his only friend.</p><p>So he did the only logical thing: he ran.</p><p>He dropped the file back onto the table and bolted out the side door— the one that led to the small garden that Ranboo loved to read in. His heart thudded in his ears and the voices roared as he hopped the fence, diving into the alleyways of the city.</p><p>He wasn’t lost— he was too familiar with the area— but he hoped that he wouldn’t be found. He didn’t want Niki to see this side of him, didn’t want the kids to see this side of him.</p><p>He needed to calm down.</p><p>(He didn’t want to calm down.)</p><p> </p><p>~o~</p><p> </p><p>Niki watched Techno disappear over the fence and into the city beyond. He had looked… afraid, almost. A complete contrast from the feral look in his eyes when he had attacked her, or the pure, oppressive rage he had emitted when he learned that Ranboo had been kidnapped. She moved to follow after him, but Wilbur held her back.</p><p>“Don’t,” He said.</p><p>“I have to, Wil. He’s my friend,”</p><p>“He tried to kill you,”</p><p>“But he didn’t! He stopped. That wasn’t him, he wasn’t thinking straight. He doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions,”</p><p>“That’s not an excuse,”</p><p>“You’re right, it’s not. But I’m not just going to abandon him,”</p><p>“You’re not going to give up, are you?” Wilbur groaned, running a hand down his face. Niki shook her head. “Fine. Fine. We can help him. But let’s not just go running after him. We have to think this through, okay? And we have to get the kids home,”</p><p>“Oi! We’re right here!” Tommy shouted.</p><p>“Ranboo’s our friend. We’re not going anywhere,” Tubbo added. Wilbur let out an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Fine!” He threw his hands up in resignation. Tommy snickered. “We should get more information first. He left his file here— let’s take a look at that. Maybe it’ll help us figure out where Techno may have run off to, and what he knows,” Everyone murmured their agreements, moving to huddle around the thick file. The first thing they saw when they opened it was a photo of Ranboo, alongside a paper with basic information about him. Then there were several pages of medical documents, followed by a picture of what looked like a young Technoblade, his pink hair cropped short and blood running down his face from a cut on his cheek. As they flipped through the pages, a small card slipped to the floor. Tubbo knelt to pick it up, freezing as he looked it over.</p><p>“What’s wrong, big man?” Tommy asked, noticing his friend’s discomfort. Tubbo flipped the card over so they could all see it. At the top, in bold letters, was the name “J.SCHLATT,” with an address on the next line.</p><p>“Do you know them or something?” Wilbur asked. Tubbo took a deep inhale.</p><p>“That’s my dad,”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im sorry lol<br/>please don't kill me ;-; i promise it gets better<br/>hnnnnn idk how many more chapters there will be but we're kinda nearing the end hehehe<br/>also dadschlatt lives in my head rent free so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i had to. mmmm plot at last</p><p>n e ways i hope you enjoyed it! feel free to scream at me :P<br/>- 🍀</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. i can beg the sun to let me sleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>reunions (both good and bad)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>YOOOOOOOOO BIG TW// VIOLENCE FOR THE FIRST RANBOO SECTION<br/>IT GOES UNTIL THE "~o~"</p><p>*ahem*<br/>i am sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So very, very dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo could smell the blood on his face, the scent of iron heavy in the air. The cloth covering his head was itchy, and the ropes binding his wrists dug into his skin painfully, just a little too tight. Briefly, he considered struggling, fighting against his captors, but then he remembered what he’d seen just before falling unconscious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Navy blue uniforms with intricate gold symbols emblazoned on the sleeves— a simple dragon shape circling around crossed swords.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the symbol of the people who had held him captive for the first 10 years of his life, before Techno had found him. They were back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Ranboo didn’t struggle, because he knew what happened to people who resisted— the scars on his back were more than enough to remind him. He sat still and silently wondered where they were going, how far away Techno was, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t make a noise. He could hear voices, rough and gravelly, followed by the crunch of footsteps getting louder as they approached Ranboo’s cage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched as the door of his cage was flung open and the cloth was ripped from over his head. He blinked against the harsh brightness of the sunlight, his pupils dilating as they adjusted. Looming in front of him was a man he hadn’t seen in years— one he had hoped to never see again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo,” The man practically purred, lifting a hand up to stroke Ranboo’s cheek. Ranboo flinched, fighting his instinct to bite at the offending appendage. He growled, the low sound forming in the back of his throat. His handler’s expression immediately soured and Ranboo felt a stinging pain across his face, the familiar copper taste of blood filling his mouth as the sound of skin hitting skin rang through the air. “Now, now,” The man said, “you’ve gotten feisty. That’s no good,” He grabbed one of Ranboo’s arms in a death grip, yanking him out of the cage so harshly that he fell face-first onto the ground, dust blowing into the air from his weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something pierced his shoulder and he let out a scream of pain, bringing his other hand up to clutch at the wound. Warm blood trickled down his fingers and he bit back another scream when his claws brushed the injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up,” his handler growled. Ranboo complied, dragging himself to his feet. “Follow me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked into an old, crumbling warehouse, past rows and rows of cages, all containing hybrids sitting silently, their dead eyes staring into the distance. A few cages were empty— Ranboo hoped they were just out for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his own eyes trained on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His handler led him to a small room in the back, ordering him to stand still before disappearing through a door on the other side. When he returned it was with a metal rod with a red-hot end bent into the symbol he wore on his uniform.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold still,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo wasn’t stupid— he knew they were branding him like livestock, and identifier to keep track of him until he inevitably died. He knew what it meant. But he didn’t protest, because also knew that in the end it would be much worse if he did. So he sucked in his breath and grit his teeth, trying to ignore the sharp pain of the metal as it met his skin and the smell of burning flesh that filled the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” His handler said when he pulled away. Ranboo didn’t respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~o~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s think about this,” Wilbur said, finally closing the file and running a hand through his curls. “From what I can gather, Techno is a mercenary that works with Schlatt often. Tubbo,” He looked to the boy. “Were you aware that your father does this?” Tubbo shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was not, no,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Niki, were you aware that Techno took these jobs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. He just said he did odd jobs,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And do you think Ranboo was aware of this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Judging by the conversations I’ve had with him, no,” She replied. Wilbur sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” He said. “I don’t like the idea of us butting into this. It seems dangerous,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to help!” Niki exclaimed, slamming a hand down into the wooden table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be reasonable! If you just go rushing into this, you’re going to get yourself killed,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if,” Tommy piped up, “we tell dad about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Wilbur scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, hear me out. He used to be a royal guard, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>captain</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the royal guard. If anyone would be able to help us, it would be him,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur fell silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then,” Tubbo added, “we can go talk to </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> dad. Surely he has more information than this,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Wilbur relented. “We can go talk to dad,” Tommy grinned, standing and walking to the door. The rest followed suit, and they quickly made their way to Tommy and Wilbur’s house. The door swung open to Phil’s smiling face, his long golden hair falling softly onto his shoulders. Upon seeing the expressions on everyone’s faces, his own fell and he gestured them inside. They crowded around the table in the small dining room and Tommy launched into an explanation, describing what happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finished, Phil was deathly silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was the name of Ranboo’s father again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um-” Tommy started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno,” Niki interrupted. “His name is Technoblade,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade,” Phil echoed, a distant look in his eyes. “Is he a hybrid?” He asked, his voice soft. Niki nodded. “Piglin?” Another nod. “I see,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know him?” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did, once. When he was younger,” His voice was sad, and he rubbed the emerald that rested over his heart. “I thought he’d died,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do it,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help. Do you know where Techno is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have an idea,” Tubbo piped up, passing Schlatt’s card to Phil. Phil studied it for a moment, humming slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, let’s go,” Phil grabbed a cloak and put it on slipping his wings through the slits on the back. “We’ve got a kid to find,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~o~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno wasn’t sure when or how he made his way to Schlatt’s, but he allowed himself to sink deeper into the plush armchair in front of Schlatt’s desk, digging his palms into his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I lost him,” He said. A heavy warmth fell on his shoulder. Techno relaxed slightly into the touch and Schlatt squeezed gently, comforting and firm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did,” The ram hybrid replied. Techno’s shoulders shook, a sob threatening to rip from his throat. “We’ll get him back,” And Schlatt’s voice was so sincere— more sincere than Techno had ever heard it— that Techno couldn’t help the hope that rose up in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my fault,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe so,” Schlatt hummed. “But that doesn’t mean you love him any less,” He knelt down beside Techno, his presence grounding the piglin hybrid. “It doesn’t mean you won’t try your hardest to get him back,” Techno nodded, curling further into the chair and allowing the warmth from the crackling fireplace to envelop him. Schlatt removed his hand and walked back over to his desk, shuffling papers around. “I’m sure I have more information here somewhere,” He said. “I’ll find it for you,” They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the faint rustling of papers on Schlatt’s desk, before a quiet knock came from the door. Techno snapped his head up, glaring at the heavy wood. Schlatt sighed and moved to open it, revealing the person standing on the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno stared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soft blue eyes stared back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil looked exactly the same as Techno remembered him, his face framed by a golden halo of hair and his wings held proud at his back. He took a step into the room, smooth and graceful and confident— everything Techno could never hope to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno remained silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another step, then another, one foot after the other until he stood in front of Techno, his kind hands reaching out once more towards the piglin hybrid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno,” He whispered, something almost uncertain in his eyes. “I missed you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno watches as Phil sleeps, restless even now. The bags are deep under his eyes and he sleeps with a dagger at his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Techno’s fault— he’s too much trouble. He doesn’t know why Phil has kept him around this long, but he knows that if he stays around much longer, it could be bad. So he steps out of Phil’s room as quietly as he can and heads back to his own. There’s a bag on his bed— he’d been preparing for a while. He needs to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, Phil will probably be upset, but he’ll get over it eventually. It will be better in the long run if Techno leaves now. Phil will be able to live a more peaceful life. He’ll forget about Techno after a year or two— he’ll be happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil deserves to be happy, and if Techno has to leave for that to happen, he’ll do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks around the room that Phil had given him, books scattered across a wooden desk, his bed sheets messy, and swords hung up on the walls. He carefully takes one of the swords from its mount— the first one Phil had ever given him. It’s beautiful: a clean golden blade with a matching cross-guard and an intricately detailed hilt. It’s fairly lightweight and easy to transport and handle. Techno slides it into the sheath at his belt and slings his bag over his shoulder, throwing one last glance at the house he’s called home for the past few years before slipping away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno ends up living with Schlatt for a while, taking some time to get his feet underneath him. Schlatt has a kid— a young boy named Tubbo who has a remarkable love of bees. Techno tries to steer clear of Schlatt’s personal life, tries to stay strictly professional with the man, but he can’t help but grow closer to the ram hybrid, viewing him more as a friend than a colleague.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He avoids Phil’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to see how happy the man is without him— it’ll hurt too much. After a while he moves out of Schlatt’s home, having found a small space for himself. He takes on job after job and builds a reputation for himself— the Blood God, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Blade</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s nice, being feared. When people see you as a monster, they do their best not to cross you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries not to think of Phil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tells himself to forget, to leave that time behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He can’t help but wonder what could’ve been.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sees Phil once, by accident. It’s while he’s on a job— a simple one still within the city. He hears the telltale rustling of feathers followed by soft laughter and golden hair, and quickly ducks into an alleyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phil looks happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two boys trail behind him: one loud with bright blonde hair and a brighter smile, and the other more reserved with messy brown hair and a lilting voice. They laugh amongst themselves and Phil looks content, peaceful. The bags under his eyes are completely gone and he grins, carefree. His hands are free, no longer twitching by a dagger at his side. He’s not throwing concerned glances over his shoulder, waiting for someone to burst from the shadows. Techno wants nothing more than to throw himself into the man's arms, to cry and cling to his robes, to let his soft voice wash over him, whispering reassurances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown-haired boy meets Techno’s eyes as they pass. Techno gives him a small nod before turning away, trying to focus on the task at hand. The kids seem good for Phil— they look like much less trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Techno leaves them alone. He goes his own way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to forget.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno looked up into Phil’s eyes. A wave of emotions crashed down on him, overwhelming and confusing. Techno felt tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Phil looked back down at him, his hands open, palms facing towards Techno as if asking him to take them. So he did, gripping them harder than he ever had before, his nails digging into the soft skin. If Phil noticed or cared he didn’t show it. He simply smiled, soft and sad, and pulled Techno to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you,” He repeated into Techno’s hair, his wings wrapping around the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you too,” Techno croaked after a beat of silence, burying his face further into the fabric of Phil’s clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hurting you. You deserved better,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe so, but it was worth it,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you, it was worth it. Anything would be worth seeing you happy. I didn’t care if I deserved better, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. I wanted my son,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Techno breathed, unable to find the right words to say. He could feel Phil shift, moving to kneel down beside his chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Phil said, “you have a son of your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Techno reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out the picture of Ranboo that he kept there. “His name is Ranboo. He’s a good kid. Sweet— wouldn't hurt a fly,” Phil takes the picture gently, nodding. “I- He makes me a better person, Phil,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He reminded me of myself, at first. I didn’t want him to turn out like me— I wanted to help him. I wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be better, to be what I couldn’t,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Phil opened his mouth to respond, but Techno cut him off before he could speak. “I’m not good, Phil. There is too much blood on my hands, blood that I can never wash off no matter how hard I might try. There’s no taking back what I’ve done. I’m a monster,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. I am. I’ve come to terms with it. Perhaps I wasn’t back when I was your son, but I am now,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Techno,” Phil’s voice was soft and gentle, and his hands combed through Techno’s hair in a calming rhythm. “You’re still my son,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hurt you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you did. But I never stopped caring about you. You never stopped being my son,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words were all it took for Techno to break. He sobbed, tears seeping into the cloth of Phil’s robes. If the man minded, he didn’t say anything. Instead he brought a comforting hand to Techno’s back, rubbing circles up and down his spine. In the background Techno could hear movement and low whispers, but he allowed himself to ignore them, just this once, melting into Phil’s embrace. He cried and cried until the tears stopped coming and all he could do was take long, shaky breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay,” Phil said, “you’re okay,” Techno sighed, long and heavy, and leaned back in his chair. He heard the rustling of fabric as Phil stood. “Your son, Ranboo, I’d love to meet him,” Techno opened his eyes to look at Phil, who was smiling sadly. “So let’s get him back, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>....hello<br/>so<br/>yeah....<br/>sorry.<br/>i promise it gets better!</p><p>next update will probably take a while as graduation is fast approaching lol</p><p>as always, thank you for all your kind comments :)</p><p>till next time,<br/>anon clover &lt;3</p><p>05/13/21: YO FOR THOSE OF YOU HERE NOW:<br/>I HAVE DECIDED TO GIVE MY DISCORD<br/>radical dadical #1024<br/>IF YOU WANNA SCREAM AT ME THERE YA GO</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>for those of you that don't know, the title (and the chapter titles) are from the song called what breaks (and what doesn't) by lauren o'connell!!! it's a really good song, i highly recommend you listen to it!!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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